


My Hero

by MeridianPurified



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeridianPurified/pseuds/MeridianPurified
Summary: Sinweaver rescues Dar-Ma from her captors at Hackdirt
Kudos: 1





	My Hero

Dar-Ma looked around the cave from the cage the was imprisoned in, she had been kidnapped by cultists while making a delivery to Hackdirt. She had no idea what they planned to do with her but she guessed it wouldn’t be good.

Dar-Ma thought about her mother, Seed-Neeus and how worried she must be getting, Dar-Ma couldn’t tell how long she had been missing for but it sure felt like a long time, she was getting hungry, and thirsty too.

She sat down in her cage and hugged her legs close to her body, would her mother send someone got her? Or maybe even come herself? She sure hoped not, there were many cultists in Hackdirt, far too many for her mother to fight. What she needed was a hero, a strong warrior who could fend off all the cultists, if such a hero existed she’d like to meet them.

“Are you Dar-Ma?”

Dar-Ma was snapped from her thoughts, she looked up to see a Khajiit. A small orange Khajiit, one eye white and one eye gold, in a pair of a overalls with long, thick light brown hair that almost fell down to the floor, much less Dar-Ma’s idealistic hero and more of an oddity.

Dar-Ma quickly found herself and stood up. “Y-yes! I’m Dar-Ma! Did my mother send you?”

The Khajiit nodded with a small ‘mhm’ noise. “How did you get here?” She asked, inspecting the lock to Dar-Ma’s cage.

“I was making a delivery and the people - the cultists, they kidnapped me and threw me in here, I think they’re going to sacrifice me!” Dar-Ma gripped the bars of the cage. “Please get me out!”

“Don’t worry this lock is easy, I bet they made it in this cave too.” The Khajiit pressed her palm to the lock and it clicked open and the door swung open. “I’m Sinweaver.” The Khajiit smiled, offering her hand to help Dar-Ma out.

Dar-Ma got a little flushed at her suave attitude, despite Sinweaver’s odd appearance she was clearly confident in her ability to rescue Dar-Ma from her predicament. She took Sinweaver’s hand and stepped out the cage.

Sinweaver lead Dar-Ma by the hand to the ladder she had came down to enter the cave. “I’ll got first, make sure it’s all clear.” The Khajiit offered, stepping up the rungs. Dar-Ma now noticed Sinweaver wasn’t wearing shoes either and the oddness of her rescuer grew more.

Sinweaver gently pushed the trap door open and looked around. “All clear.” She whispered down to Dar-Ma.

The Argonian began to climb the ladder but as she did she felt a large hand grip her ankle and pull her back down. Dar-Ma let out a scream as she fell back to the ground.

She came face to face with a cultist who brandished a club. “Escape will ye?” He drawled, raising his club.

“Sinweaver, help!” Dar-Ma screamed closing her eyes tightly and raising her arms to shield herself.

A couple seconds of nothing passed and she dared to open her eyes, the cultist towered above her, frozen solid.

She looked past the cultist to see Sinweaver, drawing herself back up to her full height, from her foot a trail of ice had shot forward and towards the cultist and had frozen him solid. Sinweaver closed her eyes and sighed, her breath coming out as steam like on a cold winter day.

Dar-Ma scrabbled away from the cultist as he toppled over and smashed to pieces on the ground. Dar-Ma clutched Sinweaver’s arm tightly. Clearly the Khajiit was more powerful than she was letting on and Dar-Ma had no intentions of leaving her side until she was back safely in Chorrol.

The trap door lead to an empty house. Sinweaver helped Dar-Ma up and Dar-Ma collapsed into a chair. “Mother will never let me leave Chorrol - no, the house ever again.” She clapped a hand over her face.

Sinweaver looked back at her, the Khajiit’s eyes glowed faintly red from the detect life spell she was currently casting. “I’m sure she’ll be pleased to have you back.”

Dar-Ma looked at her. “Say, your name. What’s up with that?”

“Sinweaver? It’s an ancient fabled Ayelid sword, said to be an artifact of a long dead goddess, I think it’s cool, so I named myself after it.” She smiled.

“Huh.” Dar-Ma nodded.

“Anyway!” Sinweaver put her hands on her hips triumphantly. “Let’s get the fuck outta this town!” She helped Dar-Ma to her feet and opened the door.

“Ah.” Sinweaver’s smile dropped. The house was surrounded, completely, by cultists.

“Thought you could get away with our sacrifice, cat?” Etira Moslin asked scornfully. “Now the Deep Ones will have two sacrifices!”

Dar-Ma clutched Sinweaver’s arm, trembling violently. “S-Sinweaver?” She looked down at the Khajiit.

Sinweaver sighed and took a thick white ribbon out of her pocket, tying the ribbon into a bow and her hair into a high ponytail. “Dar-Ma?” She looked up at the Argonian. “Stay very close to me.”

There was a flash of scorching light as Sinweaver shot a fireball from the palm of her hand. The fireball was so sudden and fast that none of the cultists had time to react and the fireball tore through Etira’s body, sending her flying back.

There was a silence across Hackdirt. The cultist’s all lowered their weapons slightly, and then raised them to attack.

Dar-Ma squeezed her eyes shut tight, convinced that Sinweaver had just doomed them both to death. But instead she began to be pulled gently by the hand away from where she stood. She opened her eyes to see Sinweaver escorting her to a burnt out house.

She looked behind her, cultists were flinging themselves at the two and Dar-Ma nearly screamed in terror, but then she stopped, as the cultists got closed they were vaporised, turned to ash in an instant, upon close inspection she saw a saint red aura surrounding her and Sinweaver, the Khajiit was at the epicenter.

Dar-Ma quickly realised that this was a spell Sinweaver was casting, an extremely powerful spell that she had never seen before. Just who was this Khajiit that had come to rescue her?

As Sinweaver lead her into the shell of a burnt out house Dar-Ma saw her horse, Blossom, and she jumped for joy. She quickly mounted her horse and hugged her neck. “Oh my gods I’m so glad you’re okay, Blossom!”

“Room for two up there or do I gotta walk?” Sinweaver asked with a smile.

Dar-Ma reached down and helped her rescuer up onto Blossom’s back and the two galloped away.

Sinweaver looked over her shoulder at Hackdirt. “I’ll have to get Varinal to get a party to wipe this place off the map.” She muttered.

“Varinal?” Dar-Ma asked.

“The Fighter’s Guildmaster, good friend too.” Sinweaver answered.

“Right and um, Sinweaver? Who are you?” Dar-Ma took her eyes off the road to look at the Khajiit. “I’ve never seen someone so powerful with magic.”

“Oh, well I’m the Arch-Mage of the Mage’s Guild!” She smiled.

“I- but- but you’re so.. young!” Dar-Ma exclaimed. 'Not to mention a complete oddity’ Dar-Ma thought to herself.

“Mhm.” Sinweaver nodded. “About 19, the youngest ever Arch-Mage.”

“Gods… All that power and experience at just 19?” Dar-Ma whispered.

As Blossom neared the gates of Chorrol Dar-Ma slowed from a gallop to a trot. She could see her mother waiting for her at the gates.

Dar-Ma stopped Blossom off at the stables and dismounted, Sinweaver following suit and almost immediately Seed-Neeus was upon her daughter.

“Dar-Ma! By the Hist I’m so glad you’re okay!” Seed-Neeus held her daughter tightly like she’d go missing again if she even loosened her grip slightly.

“Sinweaver, how can I ever repay you?” Seed-Neeus asked as she held her daughter.

“You don’t have to.” Sinweaver shrugged as the three walked into Chorrol.

“But I-” Seed-Neeus protested. “You deserve it!”

Sinweaver smiled. “It’s okay Seed, really.” She walked off back in the direction of the Chorrol Fighter’s Guild. Seed-Neeus and Dar-Ma watched her go.

Dar-Ma wasn’t listening to her mother anymore, she was watching Sinweaver go. In all her days Dar-Ma had never met someone so brave, powerful and kind. Her heart started to beat faster. “My hero.” Dar-Ma whispered.


End file.
